


Prison AU RP Oneshots

by BlazingBeast20, EdgeHedgeShads



Category: Sonic Boom (Cartoon), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: AU Character, Abuse of Authority, Anal Sex, Consent, Desire, F/M, First Time, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Graphic Description, Imagination, M/M, Masturbation, Millie hasn't got a clue, Multi, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Porn What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Prison, Prison AU, Prison Sex, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rising Above Abuse, Risk of being caught, Rough Oral Sex, Self-Stimulation, Sexual Abuse, Smut, Sticks and Stones, Stolen virginity, Stone got it bad, Stone is Boom Shadow, Vaginal Sex, Yearning, Zero is Infinite, forlorn, imagined blowjob, infinite, knot the knot, porn for porn's sake, prison cell sex, so I write it, tell me if you want, there may be more?, we don't rp this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25707568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlazingBeast20/pseuds/BlazingBeast20, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgeHedgeShads/pseuds/EdgeHedgeShads
Summary: Some friends and I do a No Zone Prison AU and this was a thought. We don't rp these things though. So have some short.
Relationships: Infinite (Sonic the Hedgehog)/Original Character(s), Sticks the Badger/Shadow the Hedgehog
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Stone never regretted not telling her how he felt, at least until Sticks turned up in prison, too. Now she's all he can think about.

It's never truly dark in the cells. Small wall lamps add ambient, muted light to the confined spaces, allowing duty guards to check inmates without waking a whole block to do so, a necessity when many are potential suicide risks. With no incidents of attempted suicide since Zhadow took the reins however, the patrols have been reduced to just four an hour from twelve. Inmates have slept better and in turn been less rowdy during the day, Zobotnik has saved a months' expenses on guards alone and the remaining few get paid a little more for their effort.

Tonight, Stone makes full use of the laxer rules; he's not been able to get the day's events out of his mind. Her hot, soft form and supple lips; how she melded to his torso and bucked against him with need; how hard he'd gotten in the laundry with her straddling his hips, pressing her breasts to his torso almost entirely oblivious to the connotations. She is perfect, his down to earth and beautiful Sticks. 

Her uncouth and often confusing behaviours a blessing for the maroon ancient to observe, he's been in love for years now, watching her from afar as her friends danced around her true insights and apparent paranoia. But he'd never regretted that. To know her was enough, to befriend her a gift. He could have watched her live and survived on her memory for an eternity afterwards, for she was happy. A pure and brilliant contentedness no one should marr.

Seeing her there in prison had been a shock. To learn she was the same Sticks even more so. In another time and a better place, he could have remained distant and simply enjoyed her existence again, but in No Zone Penitentiary, an inmate, some of that self sufficiency eroded. He hadn't intended to do more than talk to her in the mess hall. He'd been craving the familiar face and voice, even if she were a different Zone's Sticks. 

Then everything spiralled until suddenly, they were barely two flimsy sets of pants away from fucking. Stone stalled her, his excuse a truth but also a lie; he would have given Sticks his virginity there on the dryer if he didn't care for her own first experience so much, nor did he want to take advantage of her naivety. "Not here," he'd told her, and she had agreed, putting her trust in the man who murdered her friend because in prison, life outside barely matters.

The semi-darkness hides him well, but Stone waits for the guard to do his rounds anyway, just to be safe. He's unsure what the rules are surrounding self-stimulation but has no desire to be thrown in the Hole for indulging in something keeping him from sleep. 

As soon as the guard moves on, bare fingers slip shakily beneath the waistband of his pants and roam towards his backside, arching carefully off the squeaking bed to ease them down his thighs. Already fully exposed and throbbing, his cock catches in the thin material of the crotch and has to be freed separately. A wash of cool air over heated skin is almost euphoric. Stone shudders, head dipping back into the fluffless pillow with mouth agape, barely able to draw a breath as deep rubies flutter closed.

With how painfully hard he is and how long it's been since last jacking off, the maroon knows it's going to be almost impossible to stay quiet. Without touching his erection, he's breathing hard and his cheeks are flushed, hips bucking up into thin air as clawed fingers dig into the sheets. He wants Sticks so badly. Never has he wanted this with a woman in his life until Sticks. Back home, imagining her beautifully naked form riding his cock was a guilty midnight pleasure he soon lost the desire for in prison, but seeing the badger again has vigorously reignited Stone's imagination.

Unsteady fingers grazing his cock, he bites back a whine when pleasure spikes up his rod and tingles his balls. Not even a full stroke and he's almost ready to burst. Trying to get himself under control Stone begins slowly, the caress of just a finger and thumb along the length of his shaft, a slight squeeze at the tip that sends another euphoric wave through his balls and through his groin. The inmate huffs quietly, far too hot but unwilling now to calm down, already submitting to the sordid pleasure of imagining softer hands on his genitals and a warm mouth on his tip.

_ Sticks cups his balls gently, fingers skimming the delicate exposed flesh and teasing his erection. She's torturously slow to pump him, but it's a blessing in disguise; too much and he'd blow his load too soon. This, like her, was perfect. _

_ Her name ghosts from parted lips, unstable and shivering in the darkness. Stone has lost track of time and space, no longer aware of his cell nor the surroundings. Ruby irises crack open and he can see her; beautiful sapphires looking up through thick lashes, supple breasts pressed to his sac and a hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He says her name again. Insistent, needy, desperate to cum. She obliges, wrapping her lips around his cock, making a level headed, almost stoic Shadow whimper as his eyes flutter closed once more. _

_ In his mind's eye he sees it all; her unyielding gaze as she takes his pulsing meat as deep as she can, cheeks pinked by passion and heat, choking on his girth. Warm fingers lit his balls on fire once more and he's squirming beneath her. Her grip gets firmer, the bob of her head faster, almost too fast to comprehend as he gasps for air and arches off the sheets. "Sticks," he whimpers, so close he teeters on the verge of ecstasy unable to think straight, thankful his body breathes autonomously. "Chaos, Sticks I'm gonna-" _

Breath catching in his throat, Stone goes stiff as he falls off the cliff, plummeting into a glorious orgasmic nirvana. His balls contract in blissful rhythm, waves of unadulterated pleasure accompanying the thick reams of cum that shoot onto and soak his black shirt. The inmate keeps stroking himself jerkily, barely able to maintain constant stimulation. His entire body shakes with release before very slowly lowering back to the sheets, leaving Stone breathless and temporarily satiated even after his eyes crack open to no more than his own hands resting on his spent manhood.

Not wanting reality to sink in yet, he rolls over, still filthy as he lets sleep take him. Exhausted, he dreams of pleasant realities where they lived free instead of behind bars, of her smiling face and their happiness unbridled. 

_ Perfect. Beautiful. Sticks. _


	2. Prisoners to Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally able to have some time alone, the jackal finds he needs the medic in more ways than one. With her, he can put aside his loneliness and wishes to repay her trust and acceptance with gentleness and pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another oneshot to add to the Prison AU, this time with Zero and Millie.

He isn't exactly sure how this started or even where it will go but it doesn't stop him from indulging in the medic while away from prying eyes. Millie's empty cell is the best spot they can get for privacy, their growing fondness for each other already taboo and against the rules set by the warden. This goes beyond just fondness though. It's a hunger. Something Zero makes clear as his frame looms over Millie's, hands pressed to the wall on either side of her and teeth nipping her jaw. She purrs lightly, eyes half-lidded as her arms wrap around the back of his neck and keep him there. The invitation draws a soft murmur from him and he nibbles on her collarbone as one of his hands skims down her body to a thigh before lifting it over his hip. It's a bold and blunt move on his part but the medic makes no attempt to stop him or return her leg to the floor. Instead, her arms wrap tighter around his neck as she presses her body closer to his. The jackal wishes to be closer though. He reaches for her other leg and lifts her light frame upwards against the wall with another growl, the sound deepening when their hips meet. Startled by the sudden lift and cool wall against her back, Millie clings tightly to him for balance.

"Relax, I have you." the jackal murmurs into her neck before offering it a soft nip. The shudder he earns makes him grin as another low murmur rumbles in his throat, completely enraptured by the feline in his arms. She managed to break down all the walls he had put up and stir feelings he long believed as weakness. What she stirred now was something more primal though. A need and want that has torn away at his composure and leaves her pinned up against the cell wall, shuddering and purring in his grasp. She's become intoxicating to the canid and he can't help but want more. To feel her, taste her, claim her. Again he goes for her neck, grazing his teeth against fur and skin where he can around the collar she wears. Millie squirms slightly, a shuddered breath escaping as she continues to cling to his shoulders. She's tense and though she doesn't say anything, it's enough to make him pull away enough to look at her. Her muzzle and ear tips are red, her eyes fix on his for only a moment before darting down.

_"Perhaps I am being too aggressive..."_

He nuzzles her chin lightly before lowering her back down and allowing her to stand on her own. Her gaze is still lowered, now fixed on his chest as he speaks. "...Do I have your complete trust? Will you allow me-" The medic's head snaps up, the blush on her face darker than before as she slowly pulls her hands down from his neck and shoulders. "Yes. I would like...this. I just…" Her voice lowers to a near whisper and his ears turn to her to better hear her. "I do not wish for kittens...or pups." A look of confusion crosses Zero's features for a moment before an amused smirk takes over. "I agree. Prison walls make a poor environment for having children. This does not have to result in them though." The feline stares at him and he swears he can see her going through her unspoken thought process. "I do not understand. Sex is for reproduction, to further a bloodline, even improve it. What other use is there for it if not to procreate?" The jackal's smirk falters slightly. The feline was more naive than he thought. "Pleasure." he answers simply before pressing his nose to her forehead. "Something you allowed yourself to feel just moments ago."

Millie frowns slightly, not at his words, but at the realization that the books she had read never mentioned such a thing. It had all been explained from a scientific, if dull, point of view. She had enjoyed what he was doing and wanted more of it. She wanted him to continue. More than anything though, she wanted him. "I still have so much to learn. I have been denied so much." Clawed fingers cup her chin and lift her head just enough so he can place a small kiss to her lips. "Allow me to teach you then." She shivers in his grasp but offers a smile. It's a sign of the trust she places in him and one that he will not take lightly.

With both of them now on the same page, Zero releases her chin to guide her to the lower bunk. He seats himself, gently pulling her down with him to sit between his legs. "Relax." he mutters into one of her ears as his hands slowly wander. They run down her sides over her shirt before they come to a rest at the bottom of the fabric. Her ear is offered a lick before one hand travels back up her body, claws raking through fur and grazing skin under her shirt. He feels her shiver against his chest and tends to her ear in response, using his presence to try and relieve whatever worries linger with her. A breathy shudder is his reward before continuing to run his hand upwards where he cups his palm around her breast and slowly kneads it, mindful of where his claws are. Millie squirms and lets out a sharp breath, clearly unfamiliar with the sensation but makes no attempt to dissuade him. It's clear she enjoys it and even purrs when he gives the hardening nipple some extra attention. Emboldened by her response, his other hand skims along her side and down her stomach, pausing just a moment to slip beneath the waistband of her pants. The involuntary moan that slips from the feline is all the encouragement he needs before his hand travels further down to find that his patient touches have been well worth the effort. "My, my...Someone is excited." he whispers into her ear before pressing a clawed digit to the moist spot of her undergarments. The reaction he receives is immediate as her back arches firmly against his chest with another moan, her rear unwittingly grinding against his groin and drawing a huff from the jackal that he muffles against her shoulder.

_"I refuse to resist you any longer. Your intrigue has sparked a desire I can no longer deny…"_

This close, her scent once again fills his nose and senses, though it's much stronger than before. Arousal now mixes with her natural scent and permeates off of her like a perfume to him. He wants nothing more than to take her right then and there. To make her writhe in pleasure beneath him and allow their scents to mingle and cling to each other's fur. Unspoken proof that she is his and he is hers.

A gasp brings him out of his thoughts and he can feel the feline becoming frisky as she instinctively bucks her hips against his teasing fingers. Her earlier nervousness is fading with her growing pleasure, and while it's a good sign to him, the jackal isn't done with the medic. "Much better." He growls into her ear before pressing his muzzle to her shoulder and offers it a firm nip, making Millie arch her back again with an overstimulated mewl. The insistent kneading of her breast, the growing hardness pressing against her rear, and the hand down her pants seem to make her lingering inhibitions disappear and leave whatever thoughts she has foggy with desire. It's a little too much for Zero to ignore though and without much thought, he bucks his own hips against her, a lustful groan escaping his muzzle and a squeak of surprise drawn from the medic. Losing his self control now would only spoil the fun though. Besides, there was still quite a bit to teach the not-always-meek cat. Giving her ear a final lick, he pulls his hand free from her pants, the other following out from under her shirt. Millie looks back at him, a slight frown of disappointment slowly showing through the haze of her arousal but he grins in return.

"Z-Zero...are you alright? Why did you stop?" Her voice is tinged with confusion and lingering lust, making her blush at the realization. The jackal only offers an amused chuckle at first before whispering huskily into her ear. "Were you enjoying that?" He swears he can feel the heat radiate off of her cheek from his teasing, even as she turns her face away and begins to fidget with the sleeves of her shirt. "How rude of me. Allow me to rectify that." Little time is given for her to stutter out an answer as he pulls her down, letting her back hit the bed before shifting himself above her. Her body is tense as he stares down at her, his tail swaying slowly behind himself.

_"Allow me to break you down, just as you did me."_

Zero leans over her smaller frame, one hand already up her shirt and gently brushing claws down her side as the other tugs at the bottom of the fabric. "May I?" He pulls it just over her stomach and only continues to remove it from her when she silently nods her permission. With some body repositioning and tugging, the shirt is removed and tossed aside so he can truly appreciate her, letting his eyes and hands wander her lithe form. Each muscle, curve, and even shudder is taken in as he commits _her_ to memory with a soft growl of approval. He's only distracted from his enjoyment when he feels the feline pulling at his shirt in return. No movement is made until one of her hands slides under it, fingers brushing against his stomach as she looks up at him. "Be fair, Zero."

It sounds more like a quiet plea than a demand coming for her but he gives in to the request and removes his own shirt as well, placing it over hers before looking back down at her. He can see her widened eyes fixed on the large and bare scar across his chest and shivers both from the cooler air against it and the thought that she might find it to be a mood killer. A gentle touch is what she offers his damaged skin though and he responds with a deep murmur she can feel through her fingertips.

" _I do not deserve you or your kindness. I can not make the same mistakes…"_

The jackal leans over her once more before his lips meet hers, a low hum escaping him as she purrs into it. He let's it linger a moment, but grins when a hand back on her chest makes her break it in surprise. "Such a lovely sound. I wonder if I can get more from you." Millie stares up at him but he's too busy to elaborate. His nose is at her neck again, teeth nipping at a spot under her collar as his hand continues it's kneading from earlier. The gentle attention is enough to make the medic purr steadily and close her eyes, making Zero offer another growl of appreciation as his teeth move to her shoulder and collarbone. He continues to trail lower and only stops when he's above her ignored breast, something he plans to correct immediately. A small yelp of surprise and wide eyes on him is what he receives when his tongue makes contact with her exposed nipple. He doesn't bother to even glance at her though, instead offering the soft nub another slower lick before wrapping his lips around it so he can tend to it more properly. The soft moans he earns from her make his patience worth it, even as he grows more aware of how uncomfortably tight his pants have become.

_"All good things come to those who wait."_

The jackal can't help but smirk as he feels the light shudders run through Millie's body. The pleasure he brings her is exciting but also proof that he is keeping his word. He wants her to enjoy this fully. Releasing the now hardened nub from his mouth, Zero spares a glance up at her. She appears lost in bliss as she returns his gaze and regards him through half lidded eyes. "I was unaware that such forms of…'affection' existed…" she mumbles shyly before shivering with thoughts of further pleasures. "How lucky you must feel then…-" Zero's muzzle moves to her kneaded breast, giving the already sensitive nub a soft and brief suckle that makes her purr before releasing it again. "-...to have so many options at your disposal." He receives quiet bemusement in response and grins up at her. "Shall I show one more 'form of affection' to you?" There's desire in his voice and mischief in his eyes as his tail begins to drag back and forth along the bed sheets. "And...what might that be?" Millie's question makes his grin widen enough to flash sharp canines. He leans back and trails his hands down to the waistband of her pants. Clawed fingers hook under it and lightly tug downward as his tongue peeks out to slowly lick against his muzzle. It only takes the feline a moment to realize what he implies and the skin of her exposed body seems to light up under her fur with a blush.

"That...that is…" She can't seem to get the words out through her confusion and embarrassment. "That is what?" he asks as he shifts back up, his larger frame now looming over her and his nose mere inches from the feline's. He receives no response though and offers her nose a poke with his own. "My goal is to pleasure and relax you, not embarrass. Will you allow me to do so?" His nose moves to her cheek to offer her a nuzzle and he swears he can feel her breathe his scent in deeply before a quiet "Yes" comes from her. It's all the permission needed to continue. He nips through the fur of her cheek and moves to her chin before pulling back, hands already back at the waistband of her pants. He's barely pulled at them when her hand suddenly grabs onto his arm, a look of conviction on her face. "You first this time."

At first wondering if she had changed her mind, Zero grins down at her as he releases the fabric in his grasp. "Are you hoping to get a sneak peek already? Such impatience." he teases before standing from the bed to honor her request. It isn't difficult to notice how aroused he is, the material tenting at his groin and a small huff escaping him when the material brushes against his trapped member with additional friction. An involuntary groan escapes the jackal when he slips the last of his clothing down, the cool air and freedom from confinement making him twitch with anticipation. As pleasant as it feels though, all he can truly focus on in that moment is the way Millie seems frozen in place.

Her eyes are clearly fixed on his sheath and half exposed twitching manhood emerged from it. Was she truly prepared for what was to come? The question has time to linger in her mind for only a moment as a heat runs through her body. It isn't like a blush that stays on her face or burns at the tips of her ears. This heat fills her entire frame and pools towards her abdomen, settling there before spreading further down with a thought that makes her unconsciously purr. "You can admire it more later." The jackal's words snap her attention back up to his face and the toothy grin bared down at her. She stares back for only a moment before turning her head, eyes now focused on a wall as the burn of a blush joins the heat of her need.

With his pants kicked aside, Zero leans over her and nips her exposed collarbone. The feline keeps her gaze on the wall though. She shudders under him, in need of some reassurance but unwilling to seek it. It's only when he nips her more firmly that she finally looks back to him with surprise. His lips capture hers once more with a kiss, a gentle gesture that calms her enough to steadily meet his gaze when he pulls away. "Shall we continue?" His hands stroke at her sides, fingers and claws tracing along where pink fur melds into the white of her stomach. A soft sigh comes from her and she nods quitely in response before his hands trail lower. Claws hook into her pants and undergarment before he pulls them down and free from her legs. The feline now laying bare before him, Zero can't help the excitement that courses through him. His tail curls and sways randomly as he tries to keep his composure from cracking further. It's only when she calls his name that he refocuses himself again.

The canid moves over her just enough to press his cool nose to her stomach. It earns a small huff from the sensation but becomes a purr as he nips and licks at the area. He moves down her body slowly and meticulously with his gentle grooming as his ears fix on every sound she makes. Millie squirms slightly under his touch and closes her eyes as her purring increases in volume when he finds a particularly sensitive spot over her hip. He nips lightly at it and smirks when a moan mixes with her purr. The canid knows he can get more from her though. His clawed hands spread her legs so he can kneel between them, his pheromone flooded nose now pressing against an inner thigh. She shivers from the touch, only now cracking her eyes open and blushing deeply when she sees where he's placed himself. He pays little attention to the look she gives him though, already offering the delicate fur and skin a gentle lick. The feline releases a shaking breath as she shudders and soon gives into the touches he places along her thighs. She squirms from his teasing as soft mewls now escape her, hands grasping the bed sheets lightly as the canid's tongue and teeth offer her sensations she's clearly never felt before. He pauses only to briefly glance up at her and take in the lust clouding her gaze again.

_"That look in your eyes...Delectable. I have you right where I want you."_

One final nip is offered to her thigh before his tongue flicks against something far more sensitive and makes the feline gasp sharply in surprise. He gives her little time to process anything before he presses his tongue against her nethers as a soft growl rumbles in his throat. Another gasp escapes her, followed by another, and soon becomes mixed with moans and mewls as the muscular organ laps at her. The jackal is completely lost in the pleasure he provides her as he enjoys her taste, the sounds she produces, and even the shudders coursing through her body. And yet somehow it isn't enough for him. He slows his lapping to a lazier pace, pressing firmly against the stimulated flesh until Millie dares to stare down at him. A mischievous smirk is all he offers in return before his tongue slips between her folds and into her virgin body. She cries out in surprise and pleasure, back arching and claws digging into the bed sheets as he works his tongue as deeply as he can before pulling back and pushing it in again. He penetrates her quivering body numerous times, purposely wriggling it within her inner walls at times and drawing gasping moans from her.

Her body shudders and squirms from the experience, forcing him to grasp her thighs to keep them apart as he continues to offer her his "affection." She can barely make out a coherent thought as overstimulation begins to take over. Her hands knead and claw at the sheets, feeling the canid tongue spread and wriggle against her tight walls before another wave of bliss spreads through her body and makes her mewl almost pathetically. The jackal's name is nothing more than a breathy whisper as her hands find his hair, fingers tangling themselves in the surprisingly soft locks before a loud moan is pulled from her. Her back arches and her eyes shut tightly as her inner walls tighten against the wriggling organ and her entire body is overtaken by a jolt of pleasure that leaves her panting and squirming with aftershocks.

Zero growls deeply as his hair is grasped tightly, though it isn't in anger or even warning. It's a sound of satisfaction, of knowing he had brought the medic to an orgasm so intense she was unaware of what she was doing. Her quivering walls continue to flex and squeeze his retreating tongue and he can't help but imagine his twitching shaft getting the same treatment. His tongue runs along his muzzle a few times to clean himself of her as she untangles her grasp from his hair, a smirk on his features when he finally stands and looks her over. Her chest rises and falls with deep breaths as she recovers from her orgasm, her body flush and still wracked by the occasional shudder. It's a sight that he absolutely loves. "That was...unexpected." she finally manages out when she has enough of her senses and air back before propping herself onto shaking elbows as he returns to the bed. "How so? I only delivered the pleasure I promised to. This should not have been seen as unexpected." An odd look momentarily crosses the medic's features as he continues to smirk. "Yes, well…Tongues do not normally belong there." She tries to sound sure of her words but her statement dies down to no more than a whisper when he leans in just inches from her nose. "Mine does." An embarrassed squeak is her only response as she falls back onto the bed with an arm thrown over her face to cover the red coloration once again burning under her fur from both the statement and the fact that he carries her scent on his muzzle. A murmur is all he offers her in comfort before skimming his hands down her sides. They stop at her hips and he pulls her closer to his own, the tip of his aching arousal now pressing to where his tongue had been buried just moments ago. The sensation makes Millie swing her arm off to look down at where their groins nearly join, her hidden blush now darker than before as her eyes move up to meet his hungry gaze. "My turn."

The canid can't hold himself back any longer and thrusts into her with a low and needy whine. The sudden penetration makes her groan out, a sound that isn't entirely painful, but also not completely pleasured either. Wanting to offer her a distraction as he eases more of himself inside, his muzzle moves to her cheek to groom her fur with licks and nips. Murmurs and small words of encouragement follow as he moves down her neck, poking and prodding under her collar with his nose until he can find enough bared fur and skin to nibble on. The medic pants lightly in response, curling her tail against one of his legs as the gentle affection helps to slowly relax her body around the hard length stretching her walls. Keeping her comfortable is his priority at the moment, even if instinct and desire tempt him to bypass his current slow and steady pace. His patience eventually pays off though and a small moan escapes the feline. This close to her, the sound fills his ear and he can't help the huff he lets out. The jackal wants her completely and begins to thrust with more conviction and an eagerness to pull more of those delicious sounds from her. His hips begin to meet hers smoothly, each movement pushing further than the last to reach depths his tongue could not.

_"To think I had wanted to chase you away. Now all I can think of is wanting to keep you close..."_

His tail wags from both pleasure and joy as Millie now squirms underneath him. Small gasps and moans escape her freely with each thrust and they sometimes spur him on to use a little more force. His desire growing stronger, he props his weight onto his hands so he can angle himself better and draws a mewl of appreciation from the feline when he nearly completely hilts himself within her. Her eyes meet his and he stares down at her with lust and mischief before pulling back and bucking back in roughly. It earns him another, louder mewl that becomes a moan when he thrusts inside of her roughly once more. The sounds and their combined scents begin to quickly flood and overload his senses. He leans just low enough to release a hot and husky breath against her ear, his words laced with lust. "Is that the spot, kitten?" With self control slipping, Zero digs his claws into the bed sheets and buries his throbbing shaft in her depths with a growl and forceful grind of his hips. There's no reason for him to hold back now.

The sudden roughness draws a squeak from her that becomes a gasp when he nails the same spot. More than anything though, the friction between them makes her want to purr as the heat from earlier begins to build once more. Her hands search blindly for anything to grasp as her smaller frame is rocked against the bed, clawing at the sheets and grasping at his arms as she rides this new wave of bliss. They find his shoulders and settle under his hair, claws kneading at his fur and skin as she writhes with enjoyment. "Zero…"

His ears perk and swivel to Millie's voice as she moans his name out with a desperation in her tone that makes the canid whine in response. She's all he can focus on now as he nears the peak of his pleasure and it's apparent that she's close too. He can feel the feline's body occasionally arch against his and how her claws inadvertently sink into his shoulders each time her raised hips take a rough and angled thrust. Her constant and unrestrained moans and mewls fill his ears and he has no choice but to give into them with a murmur. He leans down closer to Millie, his cheek pressing against hers as he now thrusts into her with overstimulated and rough vigor. Whines and grunts join the feline's vocalizations as he occasionally grinds his hips flush against hers multiple times. The jackal knows he shouldn't be so forceful, the risk of knotting her is too great, but it's a difficult instinct to fight back as he feels the medic responding to his movements with her own. Her hips rise and hold to meet his violent thrusts, each one tearing a sharp cry of pleasure from her that she attempts to muffle against the crook of his neck until a second orgasm jolts through her intense enough to make her cling to him. The claws in his shoulders dig deeply as a strangled cry escapes her, body arched flush against his and her inner walls flexing and squeezing with enough force to pull an involuntary moan of pleasure and pain from him.

Another moan slips Zero as the feline's body continues to tempt and coax him with tight quivering walls that nearly hold him in place. He forces himself to ignore the desire to claim her fully though, eyes shutting tightly and thrusting once more before pulling himself away and out of her just in time with a pleasured whine. Ropes of cum are shot onto the medic's stomach as his knot swells in the cooler air, a curse escaping him both from the intense pleasure and the thought of their near miss. His eyes crack open to look down at Millie, tail wagging slowly as their gazes meet. She breathes as deeply as she can to catch her breath, letting her hands settle back down to the bed with a low purr. "Someone looks pleased." he murmurs as he leans low to nip at her cheek. His teeth grooms through the fur and earns louder purrs for the effort, though he feels her tense when his body settles in closer against hers. He looks down at her with a cocked brow and notices her eyes are focused low along their bodies, a blush once again burning under her fur. A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth before an amused chuckle escapes him. "Enjoying the view?"

She says nothing in response, eyes locked on the jackal's proudly displayed shaft and engorged knot that lays against her pelvis. Pregnancy chances aside, she can't imagine how anyone can handle the swollen base. What could possibly make them even attempt to? Her ears begin to burn with a thought she doesn't dare voice, eyes instead slowly moving to the mess left in her fur. The potent musky scent it leaves is one she's sure that can't be easily hidden without properly cleaning off. "...I need a shower."

"That can wait." Zero shifts above her, reaching over to the bed cover and using it to wipe her soiled fur down before moving it aside. The covers from the bed above them could easily replace it. "Besides, I can not leave from here for a while in this state." The medic looks up at him, lips pursed before a smile takes over. "Very well." The jackal feels her tail loosen from his leg and slide up to entwine with his, a gesture he gladly appreciates with a soft murmur before continuing his earlier grooming. It's hard to forget that they still run the risk of getting caught but the jackal can think of no other place he wants to be at that moment.


	3. Guinea Pig (Zhadow)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zhadow's roots are painful and brutal. He is the man he is today because of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter contains:  
> \- depictions of rape  
> \- non con  
> \- peer abusers  
> \- authority figure abusers  
> \- emotional deterioration  
> \- references to self harm
> 
> READER DISCRETION IS HEAVILY ADVISED

**GUINEA PIG (Zhadow)**

Most Shadows were made as biological weapons, as an asset with multiple facets; to research, poke and prod until mother nature's secrets spilled out, almost always a futile endeavour before disaster struck. A Maria would die, a government militia would lock the bio-hog away, and in its wake disaster always followed fifty years later. It was an inevitable and repetitive pattern across the multiverse, an incessant march doomed to be played out as fate pulled strings, with even the few Zones in which Maria was cured still submitting to later calamity.

Zhadow was special, though. At least, for the two months he lived with Zintobor, that's what the scientist told him. He wasn't made to heal a girl but fill the void her death left in the elder's heart. He was like a son to the man, he learned so much from him; to read and write, ride a bike, to speak well and understand literature. They'd do crosswords late into the night and share a pot of coffee at high noon when the Professor rolled out of bed, both laugh and cry pouring over photos of a young girl - the Maria he never met - living an entire life in just seventeen short years.

Yes, he was special; but as it turned out too special.

In his grief, the Professor never sought permission for his experiments, nor for securing Black Arms genetic samples from a neighbouring Zone. The tests were done in secret, as were final preparations, but the product exuded Chaos in a manner needing specialised shielding. It took Gerald almost the entire two months to fashion inhibitors for this Shadow. Even with his lab cloaked, the sheer mass of energy produced attracted the attention of the Zone cops. The then-Commissioner didn't entertain deals, ordering a raid and seize on the property, assuming the scientist mad with grief had created a dangerous weapon. 

Other Zones had similar issues; he was just doing his job.

No one expected a Shadow. They weren't natural and had been expected never to appear in the No Zone, especially after Maria's death. Fear abounded. The men were young and inexperienced, commanding officers in headquarters the only ones to have ever dealt with Shadows before. Assuming he was a companion and threatening them with bodily harm sealed their fates; in defence of his creator, father and only associate, Zhadow had unleashed enough power to bring down the ceiling and doing so, inadvertently crushed Gerald and three Zone Cops to death whilst knocking himself out.

He came around strapped to a gurney, restrained with thick leather belts and buckles, doped to the eyeballs and unable to focus. The air stank of bleach and chlorines, making his stomach churn even more than the strong sedatives. Head pounding in his skull with every attempt to turn his head, the walls swam in and out of focus and surgical lights burned his retinas but most painful of all were the tests. Needles for bloods, injections of sedatives and cervical spinal fluid taps; tissue samples from the skin, inside his nose and ears, from his mouth and even from _organs_ still thrumming with life inside; oxygen starvation, carbon monoxide poisoning, anything to push his passive abilities to their limits and keep him woefully submissive.

The ordeal felt like forever and an hour simultaneously, an endless haze of pain, anger and fear. Of wishing death on those inflicting his ailments but more than anything, silently begging Chaos to end it, or him, forever. 

Alas, Zhadow wouldn't be so lucky.

Alongside their physical experiments, the Zone physicians also delved into the suppressive effects of his inhibitors. With no Shadows ever being admitted to the NZP before, his were the first to be studied without interrupting other Zones. Their mechanisms were figured out and replicated, then implemented in the prison proper, making it far easier to manage the more dangerous criminals present. Those that previously had to be kept under constant guard could be released into the yard, reducing the need for staff and saving the prison money.

Well aware the inhibitors alone weren't enough to keep a Shadow - or heaven forbid a Sonic - in line, they continued researching the rings' attributes until after seven years of hard graft, something even more potent was created; the suppression collar. Tuned to building energy rather than released energy, it could sense an attack charging and intercept it before release, making the prison safer and reducing infirmary load in both casualties and deaths. 

At least, if it worked. But they had the perfect guinea pig.

Released into the prison in his new accessory, it garnered immediate attention. No one had seen one before, nor did they know what it did. A few dumb inmates unfamiliar with the general Shadow pattern pushed too hard without any weight and got quickly smacked around. He didn't care for their pain or his own, the collar dormant while his cuffs did the work of zapping the gusto out of some of his swings. It was established he wasn't an inmate to rile and he mostly kept to himself, until inadvertently beating the wrong twink.

Zhadow wasn't aware he'd committed a faux pas until the moment he came to regret it; a quiet spring day in the yard. The ebon liked to sit away from most of the prisoners in a small, shaded corner at the far end of the complex. There were still cameras, so he dare not do anything stupid - the guards seemed to enjoy messing with their "token hybrid" more than other inmates - but it was quiet and solitary, the chosen sort that would relax rather than fester old wounds. It became a daily habit and in hindsight, he'd suppose that was a mistake, but at the time he needed the headspace.

That day, he wouldn't get any; the first around the corner was the still bruised twink, white muzzle stained pink by his own blood. "Piss off," the ebon had growled as he sat up, expecting the thin male to comply without thought. Instead, the limping bastard pointed at him, looked to someone out of sight and said the words that sent a chill down his spine.

"That's the one, Mack! The guy that decked me!"

Survival instincts kicking in, Chaos surged reflexively in response to danger only to further disable the ebon's ability to defend himself. Electricity from his collar, stronger than necessary and still too new to acclimatise to, Zhadow had stumbled an attempt to get up and fallen back against the concrete wall behind with a grunt, making it far too easy for guy who's piece of ass Zhadow had beaten to grab his throat and pin the then struggling hedgehog.

The echidna's breath smells foul, like he purposely gargled trash and toilet water every morning, his teeth stained a sickening yellow. A thick tongue furred with bacteria makes it all that much worse. "My boy tells me you like beating on other twinks," the buff inmate snarls, a hint of glee at the corner of his lips when Zhadow fails to twist away from his rotting breath. Claws synch a tan jaw and dig into flesh, dragging fearful crimson irises to meet sickly yellows as he firmly cups the ebon's crotch over the flimsy pants. "It's time you learned your place, cunt."

Recovered from the hefty shock and suddenly very aware of what Mack is about to do, Zhadow squirms and snarls, back arching off the wall as eyes wild. The hands on his throat and groin only tighten as the echidna holds the thin hybrid effortlessly in place. "That's it," his captive purrs with a cruel smile, hand on Zhadow's crotch only pressing more firmly, rubbing uncomfortably firm circles on the sensitive skin beneath the fabric. "It'll feel even better if you fight it. Well, for me at least-"

His jaw is released abruptly, but the ebon barely has time to process his freedom before a fist slams into his cheek. Dazed and disoriented he falls to the concrete, jarring both knees and wrists as he breaks his fall. He can taste fresh blood, feel the pain of biting his own tongue, stinging and raw cheek already puffing up. Zhadow is trying to regain his senses and feet when strong, clawed fingers hook into his waist above his pants and drag him backwards sharply, an embarrassingly surprised yelp slipping from tan lips. Dark claws scrape uselessly on the concrete until his ass is flush to another's heated form. 

"Scared, hybrid?" The sneer is too close to his ear, far too close. A shudder slips down the hedgehog's spine and in honest terror Zhadow throws his head back to smash into the echidna's snout. He fails though, and for his trouble Mack fists his quills painfully tight and yanks his head back sharply, much to the amusement of the gang watching the show. "You should be. Now, enough o'that. Be a good bitch and we won't get _too_ rough with you."

Cold air hitting his ass a shock, concerned eyes dart to the gang members still hanging around, to the numerous men smirking and massaging their crotches through their pants. One already with his dick over his waistband approaches, lips parted and tongue lolling suggestively between sharp canines. "Look at that raised ass ready for your cock," the canine member growls, taking hold of Zhadow's quills and jerking his head back even further. Pain sings through the hybrid's skull as he's forced to lock eyes with the lean, muscular wolf stroking himself. "Guess I'll keep you quiet while th'boss has his fun, hm?"

Zhadow refuses to look at the tapered, swollen appendage held less than an inch from his lips, an ear turning to the sound of clothes rustling behind. He tries to look and is immediately reprimanded with a sharp yank of his dorsal quill, his whimper of pain garnering a cruel chuckle before the leaking tip is brushed across his lips. It smells foul to the straight male, a scent he never wanted near his face. Zhadow struggles uselessly in the other's grasp as equally potent precum is smeared on his muzzle and the thin head jabs at his mouth. "Little pig, little pig, let me come in~"

The ebon wants to growl and snarl and bite, to threaten a thousand pains on all of them, but common sense keeps his lips tightly shut against the intruder. His head lashes to the sides despite the pain, refusing to even taste the wolf's flesh, to entertain any idea he will succeed. Then the shaft of hot, throbbing meat rests between his asscheeks. A groan from the male at his rear has everything clenching tight from lips to sphincter, the ebony form prone between and frozen by fear until the hot shaft pulls away and in its place, a leaking tip presses to his anus.

Immediately he's thrashing again, or as much as he can in his current position; his body drops aside as dead weight, but Mack snatches his hips and holds him steady. Bowing his back results in a third participant planting a firm foot on his back to keep his spine painfully in optimal position and the grasp on his quills tightening and yanking his head back further as he tries to throw them off balance. Another hand takes firm hold of his jaw and forces him to face the hard appendage, smearing precum across his cheek and maw in doing so. 

Fingers dig into his tightly clamped lips and start to level his jaw open like a dog being given a pill, a painful action that elicits whimpers from their quarry. Last of his dignity lost when his attackers laugh at this distress, crimson orbs fall pleadingly on the camera trained on their position, begging silently for someone to intervene.

Then Mack thrusts forward. 

The searing pain of being penetrated dry too much to bear in silence Zhadow screams in agony, only to be silenced by another penis being shoved down his throat. He chokes on the canid's girth, much to the amusement of the gang keeping him compliant as Mack doesn't bother to give him time to adjust. The echidna thrusts into his anus like a dog in heat, grunting and moaning with every slap of his heavy balls against the thinner Mobian's exposed flesh, each one more painful than words can express. Blood trickles down dark inner thighs as Zhadow shakes with silent tears and pain beneath the abuse, senses clouded with seemingly endless torture, of blood and semen and sweat. 

By the time Mack claws at his hips and fills his anal cavity with hot cum, he's ashamed to realise he's stopped trying to fight it; everything hurts too much, there's too many of them, and he has no desire to reignite the collar or Mack's fury again so soon. Dejected and soiled, he gives a pitiful whine as the wolf growls and fills his throat, choking on the canid's hot load as it's pumped straight past his epiglottitis and trickles down to his stomach. His only thought as he's dropped to the concrete is silent thanks the male didn't decide to knot his mouth, as Zhadow is sure he would've suffocated. 

Every muscle and bone seemingly aching, his ass burning, blood stains the concrete a questionable pink when a gang member stretches his abused sphincter and releases the bloodied cum previously pooled inside. He hisses and tries to squirm away, which only makes the gang laugh harder as Mack digs his claws into shaking thighs and drags the exhausted creature back. "They don't make Shadows like they used to, do they?" He taunts, then flips Zhadow onto his back. The hedgehog groans and tries to curl up, the sneering gang leader blurry through partially cracked eyes. "We're not even warmed up yet, hybrid. Suck it up."

A shoe presses on his chest and Zhadow grunts, feebly trying to pull the sneakered foot threatening to break his no-longer Chaos-enforced bones off. His arms hopelessly weak, he's barely able to shift it a third of an inch before another straddles his chest and grabs his ears, lining up another dauntingly thick penis with with his maw. "The food here's shite, so I'd say y'owe me for givin' you a meal," an ambiguous mammal states before thrusting forward, his lips parted and back arched with ecstasy as his manhood slips snuggly into the hot, moist cavern behind tan fur. "Oh Chaos, that's just like a pussy. Why ain't we fuckin' more freshers' faces…"

"Cause most of 'em don't fuck with my boys," Mack growls out of eyesight. The potental weasel begins thrusting using his ears as leverage and Zhadow can't focus while gagging on his second questionably clean cock of the day. His arms raise to force those hips back and they're immediately held above his head on the cold concrete, two more hands on his quivering legs as he feels a small body crawl between his thighs. The 'twink' he'd assaulted. 

"Make 'im cum," the echidna orders. Before Zhadow can even comprehend the words, his pouch stings with pain as sharp, unwanted fingers delve inside and force his flaccid cock out into the air. Unable to thrash or voice displeasure around the thick rod still ramming his throat, he can only whine and whimper between nauseating thrusts a gangster watches his favourite piece of ass suck him off, rubbing his own cock back to action with lusty groans before inserting himself into his twink's ass. "There's a good boy. Suck the bitch dry while I fill you up."

The sensations are foreign and horrifying, as are thoughts and emotions that rear their heads during his ordeal. The hedgehog feels violated, but more so his body reacts like the primitive system; regardless of his revulsion, Zhadow is soon semi-hard, though too mortified to get fully erect. That doesn't stop the bruised pet Mobian moaning his boss' name as he's fucked hard and fast doing as he's ordered. His hands roam Zhadow's balls and thighs, the hormones being encouraged in his blood reacting with tingles of joy even as his cock burns from abuse, sheath still throbbing and sore beneath the organ beginning to pulse and throb.

It all makes no sense. Why would his body react so to the abuse of his most delicate organ? Why was the pain and shame not overriding the pleasure, when all he could feel was filthy fingers and mouths and dicks violating his being? He hasn't longer to consider the answer before the muted bliss in his groin suddenly spikes and he cums feebly into the submissive's mouth, then is forced to ingest it through a sloppy and revolting, open mouthed kiss.

That's the last thing Zhadow remembers before he's thrust into so violently again, he passes out from pain.

\-- 

Coming around in the Hole later, he learns from an ass of a guard who spit in his food the ordeal lasted hours, that the guards had watched and laughed as the one responsible for their fellow Zone Cops' deaths was bent, fucked and beaten to within an inch of his life. "You're down here for your own protection," the guard sneered before hacking a lugey into his cold, dried out old stew. The echidna who put him there was still running free above, while the beaten ebon was left to slowly recover his wounds and his dignity in the dingy darkness of solitary confinement. 

Zhadow spent a lot of those first two years in the Hole, a shell of a Shadow slowly losing what little composure he retained to the dark, silence echoing in his ears. Anxiety of returning to the prison proper only to get attacked plagued the biohog; he lost count of how many times he woke up in that pit of despair cold and pained, sometimes too delirious or nauseated even to eat. The guards would make him; a spit for every mouthful and laugh for each gag and cough.

At his lowest moments, he hoped to return to the research labs to be an experiment. At least there, he had his dignity.

It wouldn't just be Mack but a number of his cronies, all fists and twisted excitement at easy prey. Most of it he'd never recall, but flashes of clarity would haunt both waking and unconscious moments in the Hole. The _crack_ of a broken nose, pain of a shattered jaw and piercing of a displaced rib. All nothing compared to the humiliation of having a hot, throbbing cock forced into your mouth, or the searing pain of another thrusting into your dry, clenched anus and being forced to cum so weakly on your own face, they mock him.

Neglected by the guards and abused by fellow prisoners, his mental health deteriorates. He picks his claw-bed raw, gauges tracks in his arms and even plucks fur until it lands him in Psych for almost a month. Locked in a soft cell with quills clipped and fully restrained, Zhadow finally realises if he doesn't take control of the situation he'll end up there forever, a fate worse than experimentation as he'd be conscious of every passing moment.

On returning to his normal cell, Zhadow devised a plan.

It was simple and painful, but effective. While he ended up bruised and broken in the Hole numerous times in doing so, the hedgehog bided his time. He made sure to change his haunt several times on a daily basis, abandoning one if he were ever cornered there to practice his tolerance to the collar in peace. Weeks turned into months until nearing his third year anniversary in that god-forsaken prison, Zhadow took matters into his own hands for the first and final time.

He didn't demean them as they did him, couldn't even if he wanted to. With Zintobor on a shoulder, raging against the man's untimely death and his own abuse the exercise yard was reduced to a bloodbath. Every member of the gang to assault him, however minor or dismissive, were reduced to shedded skin and bloody puddles even as electricity raced through his nerves. He used the pain, fuelling his anger to new heights until every last gangster lay dead or fatally wounded on the concrete. Only then would he surrender to the thrumming voltage turning his muscles to ash and burning his organs from the inside. Revenge sweeter than expected, he'd welcomed the darkness expecting death.

Waking this time in the infirmary, he found his arm chained to the bed but comfortably drugged, nurse spraying healant on his open wounds. On instinct he'd pulled on the chains and startled the matron, a young rabbit who soon - despite her fear - smiled and asked how he was. Zhadow hadn't replied, only looked at the jug of water beside the bed, and was forever thankful the rabbit helped him drink down a glass without pushing for conversation. Vanilla would be his only source of contact for days while he and his Chaos reserves recovered, but she was kinder than anyone he'd met in prison so far and he enjoyed her company, almost not wanting to get better for fear he'd never have another genuine conversation.

He hadn't expected to be visited by the Warden, a young man strikingly similar to the deceased Gerald. He didn't introduce himself, but he did make a tempting offer; the NZP needed firmer, fearless leadership. As commissioner of the NZPD as well as prison warden, the young man had no time to do so. Should Zhadow agree to the contract he had Vanilla read to him later, he would be free of the prison and the collar, to live in the city. All he had to do was serve his sentence instead as Deputy Warden. He'd still legally be a prisoner, but physically he'd be a free man with well paid, contract employment and an apartment free of bills.

But anything was better than the alternative; a lifetime in Psych for evaluation, experimentation and therapy. He'd taken the job without a second thought, even with a clause to remain employed until the Warden deemed his sentence to have been served. He didn't care. He wanted out and to have power over these murderous degenerates who pulled him down to their level, to have their lives and sanities in his hands and, while rarely wielding such power with his adversaries already dead, the threat would be delicious.

Deputy Warden Zhadow the Hedgehog wasn't just another Shadow. No, he was _special_ . He'd survived the worst that Mobiankind could offer and come out on top. He's stronger, more resourceful and would damn well make sure every Zoner who passed through _his_ prison knew it.


End file.
